


Good Morning, Sunshine

by relucant



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Clubbing, Drug Use, M/M, Rave, Recreational Drug Use, Top Castiel, not really d/s though, not really drug abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1674587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relucant/pseuds/relucant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean meets a guy at a sketchy party.  No big deal, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean woke up with his mouth like a desert and the inside of his head feeling somehow... _used_. It was far from the worst drug hangover he'd ever had, but he wasn't exactly delighted to be conscious.

He finally cracked an eyelid to appraise the damage. He sighed in relief as he saw his own familiar bedroom, and his wallet and phone stacked neatly on the nightstand. However, there was also another, unfamiliar set of wallet and keys, and as his head cleared it occurred to him that his bed seemed both warmer and smaller than usual.

He turned around, and sure enough there was a head of messy black hair face-down in the pillow.

Shit.

He tried to piece the previous night back together. He and Benny had taken the pills just before going into the club, as usual -- no sense risking completely fucking up his life after an unlucky security pat-down -- and they'd begun to kick in by the time they'd met up with Jo and Charlie sometime after midnight. After that, the details began to get fuzzy.

He did, however, distinctly remember a heated staring contest with the most vivid blue eyes he'd ever seen, and had the decided impression of perfect pink lips pressing into his, as well as the sensation of sleek, corded muscles under his fingertips and a voice like whiskey and sex in his ear.

The lump on the bed next to him began to stir, and Dean cringed. He wished, guiltily, that he'd kicked the kid out last night, or just not gone home with him at all; he'd rather keep those memories undisturbed for jerk-off material later than see what mouth-breathing bro or faded clubrat the drugs had turned into fucking Johnny Depp in his head.

Finally a face emerged from the pillows, blinking confusedly. Dean couldn't help a small start of surprise, because holy _shit_ , those eyes were even more unearthly without the blue all but swallowed by the chemical dilation.

"Oh, good," came a bleary voice, and it had to just be morning roughness putting those whiskey-sex tones back in. "You're still hot."

Dean stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing. The guy visibly reviewed what he'd just said, then started laughing as well, falling back to the bed and covering his face with his arm.

"I apologize," he said, muffled. "My, uh, 'people skills' are... 'rusty'."

"It's cool, dude," Dean said, still snorting. "And, um, yeah. You too." He poked him in the ribs, tentatively -- morning-after interaction always being a bit iffy -- and fuck if the guy didn't let out the most adorable shriek Dean had ever heard. Dean decided he couldn't be blamed for being unable to resist the temptation to draw out that sound again.

"Ticklish?" he said with a grin, and dove in, digging fingertips into his ribcage.

There was a flurry of shrieks and squirming, and suddenly Dean found himself flat on his back with strong thighs pinning him to the bed and his wrists locked in an iron grip.

"Yes," the guy said simply, in that fucking inexcusable voice, and Dean's breathing hitched a little.

They both seemed to realize simultaneously that they were both naked, and basically complete strangers.

"I, uh, should go," he said, sliding off Dean and rooting around for his boxers.

"Yeah," Dean said, sitting up and blushing. He found his boxers on the floor and slid them on, cursing, because of course the guy probably had a girlfriend, maybe a wife and kids, just out to get off with a stranger for a night.

"I, uh," the guy said, running his hand through his hair. "I'm not very good at this, I'm sorry --"

"It's cool," Dean said with a forced laugh. "No hard feelings."

He blinked at Dean in confusion. "Oh, um, sure. I was gonna, y'know, leave my number or whatever, but I understand --"

"No, yeah," Dean interrupted him, a little too quickly. "Yeah, sure, maybe I -- do you text?"

"Yeah," he said, and smiled at him, the first real smile Dean had seen. He fumbled around and came up with a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling on it for a moment. He hesitated before leaning down to press a quick kiss to Dean's lips before vanishing out the door.

Dean stared after him, and the slight fluttering in his belly quietly suggested that he might be in a lot of fucking trouble.

He picked up the scrap of paper in a daze. On it was a phone number, followed by three letters in small, neat print.

 _Cas_.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Winchester did not play the waiting game well.

"Just fucking text him, Dean," Jo said again, sliding a beer over the countertop. She and Charlie had opted to stick with alcohol the night before, and she looked to be in substantially better shape than Dean felt.

Dean groaned. He had come down to the Roadhouse for a late lunch and to commiserate with Jo, who was being irritatingly, if unsurprisingly, heartless.

"I _can't_ , Jo!" he said. "God, I thought bartenders were supposed to be sympathetic."

"We are," she retorted. "When you deserve sympathy. You get dumped, I'll cut the bitch, you just say the word," -- and she would, too, Dean thought with a snort. "You get fired and I'll buy you a round and help you plot revenge. But you? You meet a ridiculously hot guy, seduce him and bring him home, discover you might actually like him, _and_ he gives you his number? You're just being a whiny bitch."

"But what if he was just being polite? What if he thinks I'm pathetic if I text him, like, the day after he crawled out of my bed?"

"Then he's an asshole, and you dodged a bullet," she said matter-of-factly.

Dean groaned again. He knew Jo was right, and he was just making excuses. He hated the little power plays of making somebody wait for a text or call; it felt so childishly manipulative. But it _did_ feel a little desperate to text somebody whose name he couldn't even remember hours earlier. He dropped his head into his hands.

Jo touched his shoulder, and when his face came up her eyes were softer.

"Damn, kid, you got it bad, don't you?" she said. "Can't remember the last time you even kept a number."

"I'm not that bad," he protested, and she gave him a look. "Okay, I am that bad. But shit, Jo, I don't even know the guy, I don't know why I care. Hell, I hardly remember anything about last night."

Jo snorted. "Good thing, too, or your ego would be getting even more insufferable."

"What?" Dean said sharply. "What, why? Joanna Beth, so help me --"

She slapped him on the head with a washrag. "Don't start with me, or I swear I won't tell you anything."

"Jo," he pleaded, and she sighed.

"Dude had the interest of basically everyone in the place, regardless of gender or bend… Hell, I think _Charlie_ checked him out a few times. Seemed totally oblivious, though. Then I look up and the two of you have this weird, like… eye-fucking going on. Then _you_ ," and she poked him in the chest, "stand up and just fucking… stalk over there, grab him by the shirt, and shove your tongue down his throat."

"Oh God," Dean said in horror. He was hardly shy, but his usual modus operandi was more slick flirtation and smoldering looks than tongue-raping a stranger.

Jo smirked. "Don't think he was offended, since within about 20 seconds he had you pinned against the wall, and his hands were…" She shuddered slightly. "You know I love you, Dean, but you'll forgive me if I left the room at that point."

Dean blushed, but a small smile quirked at his mouth. Considering how easily Cas had had him flipped and pinned to the bed that morning -- and oh, God, had he been considering it -- he wasn't particularly worried that he'd taken advantage of some hapless twink. But he was still reassured that the whole thing wasn't some one-sided accident.

He took a giant bite of his burger. "But what would I say?" he mumbled, swallowing.

"I recommend not having your mouth full, in the first place," Jo said, throwing him extra napkins. "Well, not over the phone, anyway," she amended.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Jo! 'Hey, Cas! Had a great time last night! At least the two seconds I remember! Hope the sex was good. At least assuming we had sex, ha-ha! Well, see ya!'"

"Dean," Jo said, exasperated. "From what it sounds like, the guy's obviously interested in seeing you again. And he's probably having the same freak-out you're having, only he doesn't have the luxury of being able to get in touch with _you_."

"I am not freaking out," Dean protested.

"Like hell. And _anyway_ ," Jo continued before he could interrupt, "let's say it was the other way around, and he had your number and you didn't have his. What would you be doing?"

Dean opened his mouth defensively, then paused. "Freaking out," he admitted.

"So text him," she said. "Or don't, if you don't want to, but if you like him don't fuck with him."

Dean sighed and took out his phone. He clicked on Cas' contact info to send a message and then stared blankly at the screen.

 _hey, cas_ , he finally managed, then immediately erased it. It's not like they were on a casual, "hey, Cas" basis.

 _hi, cas. this is dean, from last night_. Oh, God, even worse. He didn't know if Cas remembered his name, but it was pretty douchey to assume not.

_hey cas, its dean, just wanted to text you my #. had fun! -- at least i think so, kinda hazy. hope your headache isnt as bad as mine. :)_

Dean studied the message critically, then flipped the phone to show Jo. She pursed her lips appraisingly, then nodded. Dean hit send and tossed the phone on the countertop, taking a long drink of beer.

He'd barely swallowed when his phone buzzed, and a few drops ran down his chin as he fumbled for it.

From: Cas  
 _Hello, Dean. I'm happy you texted me. I apologize for leaving so abruptly this morning; I had a meeting with my advisor and was nearly late._

Dean snorted at the formality but raised an eyebrow. Despite the questionable circumstances under which they'd met, the guy hadn't come off as a partying jackoff college kid, but he supposed not all college students were 19 anymore.

To: Cas  
 _no worries, dude. advisor, huh? whats your major?_

From: Cas  
 _I'm a third-year PhD candidate in Theology at KSU. Not terribly sexy, I know._

Dean choked on his beer. "Oh, God, Jo, what the fuck have I done?"

"What? What did you do?"

Dean showed her Cas' text. "He's a _PhD_ candidate! In fucking _theology_! And I -- more than likely, anyway -- had big gay sex with him last night!"

Jo snorted. "Dude, you like reading about mythology and shit, and you don't believe in it. He doesn't seem freaked out, so chill the fuck out."

"But how do I tell him I only have a fucking GED?"

"Tell him if he asks, or if you want to, if he freaks out, well, I reiterate: he's an asshole."

"Yeah, yeah, easy for you to say," he muttered.

To: Cas  
 _well shit, thats intimidating. should i have worn a rosary last night? ;)_

He hit send and then panicked, because shit, that was not subtle. But his phone buzzed again immediately.

From: Cas  
 _I'm studying theology, not in seminary school, Dean._

From: Cas  
 _Which is not to say that I can't think of a few things to do with you and a string of rosary beads._

Dean coughed again, spluttering on the counter.

"Well?" Jo said, reaching out for his phone, and Dean quickly snatched it out of reach. He summoned all the bravado he could muster.

To: Cas  
 _so… guess you wouldn't mind seeing me again, then?_

He stared at his phone, heart skittering, and Jo put another beer in front of him without being asked.

From: Cas  
 _I would not be averse. Though perhaps in different circumstances?_

Dean typed out his response before he could second-guess himself.

To: Cas  
 _would you wanna go on a date with me, cas?_

From: Cas  
 _Yes, Dean._

Dean knew he had a stupid grin on his face and he didn't quite care. Jo was watching him, but thankfully she let him be.

To: Cas  
 _my schedule's kinda weird, i dunno yours, but i'm off tomorrow night?_

From: Cas  
 _I'm done around five._

To: Cas  
 _ok, pick you up like 7? text me your address_

A few minutes later Dean's phone buzzed with an address, and Dean replied with a dorky smiley face, which unfortunately caught Jo's eye. She grabbed the phone and whirled away behind the bar before Dean could catch her.

"Oh, my God," she said, tossing the phone back. "Dean Winchester, you are in _trouble_."


	3. Chapter 3

"You did _what_?" Gabriel choked.

"I told you. I went to a dance music club, ingested hallucinogenic drugs, spent the night with a gentleman whose name I did not know until the morning, and with whom I'm going to dinner in about... an hour."

"Jesus, Cassie! Who are you and what have you done with my little bro?"

"We've been over this, Gabriel. Just because I have neither the time nor the inclination to engage in such things often does not mean that I am entirely, as you put it, a 'prude'."

Gabriel stared at him for a few moments, then laughed. "Well, let it never be said you do anything halfway."

Cas smiled at him; he secretly enjoyed his older brother's shock on the rare occasions he indulged his wilder streak.

"So what's he like?" Gabriel pressed. "Do I have to threaten his manhood?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "Frankly, I don't know yet," he admitted. "We didn't exactly do much talking last night, and I had to leave this morning to meet with Dr. Rosen. But he seems... sweet."

Gabriel snorted. "You met the guy at a club on illegal drugs and woke up naked in his bed, and he seems _sweet_?"

Cas blushed. "I know, I know. But if he were an asshole, or just wanted sex, he wouldn't have asked me on a date right away, right?" Cas hoped he kept the anxiety out of his voice.

"That is a point in his favor," Gabriel conceded. "You're _sure_ it's a date-date, not a booty call?"

Cas sighed and fumbled for his phone, scrolling through the texts.

From: Dean  
 _would you wanna go on a date with me, cas?_

He flipped the phone and showed Gabriel the screen.

"Okay, okay," Gabriel said, holding up his hands. "I'm just looking out for you. It's the curse of the older brother."

"I know. Now help me decide what to wear. You know my fashion sense is... stunted."

"Don't wear the coat."

"I'm wearing the coat, Gabriel."

\--

At 7:00 on the dot the doorbell rang, and to Cas' dismay Gabriel beat him to the door. He yanked it open and eyed a surprised-looking Dean up and down.

"Ah, this must be the stallion who's corrupted my Cassie!" he announced. "Do you want the speech now or later?"

"Uh, later's good," Dean managed. "Hi, I'm --"

"-- on time, so that's a point in your favor," Gabriel interrupted, "but I swear --"

" _Gabriel_ ," Cas hissed, shoving him out of the doorway. "Hello, Dean. I apologize for my obnoxious older brother."

Dean grinned at him. "S'all good, I'm an obnoxious older brother myself."

Cas smiled and stepped aside slightly. "Dean, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, Dean."

"Nice to meet you, Dean-o," Gabriel chirped, sticking out his hand. "You bring him back in one piece."

"Don't worry," Dean said, shaking his hand, "he'd be much less attractive all chopped up."

"Reassuring," Cas said with a laugh, shrugging on his coat. "Shall we?"

"Let's," Dean replied, offering his arm. Cas blushed and took it, shutting the door.

"Let the records show that I told him not to wear the coat!" Gabriel called after them, and they ignored him.

Dean led Cas to the Impala and opened the door with a grand gesture.

"This is Baby," he announced. "Treat her well."

Cas smiled. "She's beautiful," he said sincerely, stroking a hand over the dashboard as Dean got in the driver's seat. Dean grinned at him, and Cas was unnervingly sure that he would not be able to resist a fucking thing Dean asked of him with that smile.

"So where are we going?" Cas asked. "Unless it's to a dark alley to murder and dismember me," he added as an afterthought. "In that case I'd rather not know."

"What kinda guy do you take me for?" Dean asked in mock outrage. "I never do any dismembering before at _least_ the second date."

"Well, some people might think that waking up in bed with you _might_ have indicated a first date already, so... Listen, I know Tae Kwon Do."

Dean laughed. "Do you really?" he asked, but he thought back to the way Cas had effortlessly manhandled him, and yeah, he'd buy that. "Anyway, there will be no dismembering tonight, attempted or otherwise. Scout's honor."

"I wouldn't say that," Cas said thoughtfully. "I might like to take you apart."

Dean choked and swerved a little bit. He glanced over, and the little shit was smirking at him.

"If your dirty little mouth gets us wrapped around a tree, I am going to _kill_ you," he informed him, blushing slightly. " _Anyway_. Normally I'd probably take you to the Roadhouse, but the owner and the bartender are about as close to family as I've got besides my little brother, and trust me, you do _not_ want to deal with their shit."

"I wouldn't mind meeting them," Cas said shyly.

Dean shook his head. "And, um, Jo might have seen us at the club the other night, and she _might_ have been the one to make me stop being a pussy and text you," he confessed. "So yeah, I'd prefer not to get to know you while she's taking notes. Next time. Best burgers in the state." He paused. "I mean, um, if there is a next time. Assuming nobody's been murdered and/or dismembered."

Cas smiled at him. "I can't speak entirely for the murder and dismemberment, but I'm relatively sure I'd like to see you again." In truth Cas was surprised at how comfortable he felt in the car with Dean, considering their first encounter along with his own social ineptitude. "So where are we going, then?"

"Nope," Dean said. "Surprise." Cas turned to him with a slightly alarmed expression, and Dean laughed, holding up his hand. "Cas, I swear to you on Baby I have no murderous intentions towards you."

"Yeah, that's what murderers would say," Cas grumbled.

Finally Dean pulled over to the curb and shut off the ignition. "We're here," he announced, smiling at Cas' confused look. They were on a fairly busy road, lined with trees on one side and a sprawling elementary school on the other.

"I thought we were going to dinner?" he asked.

"Technically, dinner's coming with us," Dean replied, reaching into the backseat and fumbling around until he retrieved a large basket.

A slow smile spread over Cas' face. "You're bringing me on a picnic," he said. "But… where? Are we going to break into the school gym?"

Dean paused, considering. "As romantic as that would be in its own way," he finally said, opening his door, "no. Come on." Cas followed him, looking around curiously. About halfway down the block Dean stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and to Cas' surprise there was a tiny stone staircase leading up through the trees, nearly hidden from view. Dean disappeared into it, and after a moment's hesitation Cas followed.

"What is this?" he asked, pushing trees out of the way. "I've been on that street a hundred times and I've never noticed this. Dean, have you brought me to Narnia?"

Dean laughed. "Alas, I wish. I'd be fuckin' guaranteed another date if I had, right? No, I actually went to the school across the street for two years. There's a little museum and gallery up the road a bit, and most people don't realize the grounds don't end with the little garden and pond-thingy. I haven’t honestly been here in years, I was banking on it being more or less intact."

"It's beautiful," Cas said softly, picking his way over a miniscule stream, and Dean smiled.

It wasn't actually particularly secluded -- Dean assumed that a wooded park across the street from an elementary school had more than its share of liability issues. It was well-lit by standard streetlamps, harsh even in the soft glow of twilight, and while it was fairly empty, couples or families or a lone jogger wandered by every few minutes. Dean didn't want to freak Cas out on their first real date, and he definitely didn't want them both to get killed by an actual psycho, though he knew he could take care of himself and apparently Cas was more than capable as well. But it was peaceful, and it was easy to forget that the whole park took up less than a large city block.

Finally they hopped down into a gravel-paved clearing, with a small gazebo off to the side. Dean peered inside.

"Empty!" he said happily. "Score." There was a picnic table set against one of the walls, and Dean plunked down the basket and began unpacking. "Um, I didn't know what you liked, so I just kind of made a little of everything, I hope that's all right. Are you, like, a vegetarian or anything?"

"No," Cas said in slight astonishment at the food being spread out over the table. "You _made_ all this?"

"Well, sort of. I mean I didn't churn the ice cream or anything, but I did bake the pie."

"Oh, my God," Cas said. "I have to admit, I hadn't pegged you for a romantic."

Dean paused, sheepish. "Shit, is it too much? I kind of wanted to, I dunno, make up for our first non-date."

Cas leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. "It's perfect," he said, smiling. "And in case you don't remember, you were hardly the only participant in that non-date." Dean didn't say anything, suddenly focusing intently on laying out the dinner, and it clicked in Cas' head. "Wait," he said. "You _don't_ remember, do you?"

Dean wouldn't meet his eyes, and Cas could see a blush intensifying on his face. "I remember _some_ ," he mumbled. "I remember seeing you, and, um, and making out with you…"

"…but not coming home with me," Cas finished, and Dean nodded.

Some tiny part of Cas' brain briefly considered using this to his advantage to mess with Dean, but it was much too early in the relationship -- in the _date_ , he hastily corrected himself, in the date -- for that level of teasing. He sat down across from him and hooked a foot around his ankle.

"Um, we didn't actually have sex, by the way," Cas mumbled, and now it was his turn to blush.

Dean looked up in surprise. "We, um -- we didn't?"

Cas shook his head. "I mean, I've got some sizeable blind spots in my recollection as well, but no. We got back to your apartment and got each other naked -- I _think_ in that order, but it's entirely possible we traumatized a cab driver. And then I think between, you know, the come-down mixed with the adrenaline, I think we both just crashed."

Dean stared at him for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. Cas looked at him quizzically.

"I feel like I should be disappointed," Dean said. "I mean, I manage to bring home one of the hottest guys I've ever seen, got him naked and didn't sleep with him? Really?" 

Cas snorted, ducking his head. "But you're not?"

"No," Dean said. He set down the last Tupperware container and put down paper plates and silverware. "I mean, if we had, I'd have hardly been traumatized. But --" He stopped, unsure how to continue without sounding like a presumptuous sleazebag.

"But you want to remember?" Cas said softly. Dean nodded, and Cas felt a ridiculous flush spread through his stomach. "Well," he said, spearing a piece of sausage and raising it, "here's to _not_ fucking, I guess?"

Dean looked at him, then burst out laughing. "Cas, in the first place, while I am uncharacteristically relieved we didn't fuck, I still refuse on principle to toasting to not fucking. In the second place, I forgot -- red or white?"

Cas blinked at him. Dean rolled his eyes and rummaged in the basket, pulling out two bottles of wine and two gaudy plastic wine glasses.

"Oh," he said. "Either. I like both. Red?"

Dean poured them generous, sloshy glasses. "To a good real first date," he announced. Cas smiled, and clinked his glass.


	4. Chapter 4

"This is amazing, Dean," Cas said around a mouthful of potato salad. They were working their way through an assortment of mini-sandwiches and salads and various side dishes, as well as most of one of the bottles of wine, and Cas couldn't remember the last time he felt so sated and comfortable.

"It's just picnic food," Dean said. "I'm not exactly Julia Child."

"No, seriously, I fuck up grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Impressive, dude," Dean said with a laugh. "Anyway, I sorta raised Sammy -- my little brother -- and I wasn’t gonna let him grow up on ramen noodles and canned soup and shit, so I kinda had to learn to cook a little."

"You raised --" Cas began, but he saw Dean's face close off a bit, and changed tacks. "So is Sammy your only sibling, then?"

"Well, we actually have a half-brother, Adam, but we didn’t know each other as kids -- hell, we didn't even know _of_ each other as kids -- and we never really got close." He shrugged. "What about you, just you and Gabriel?"

Cas hummed, taking a bite of macaroni and cheese. "Similar to you, actually, it sounds like. Gabriel and I have two step-brothers and one step-sister. We're both pretty close to Anna. And I like Luke and Michael, but they were in college when we met, so we never really formed a brotherly bond. But I enjoy seeing them on holidays."

"And you live with Gabriel?"

"Yes. Living alone isn't very practical on a graduate student's budget, and Gabriel is -- surprisingly -- not a bad roommate."

"Better than the luck of the draw with random roommates," Dean said. "I live alone now -- well, I guess you knew that. Sammy and I shared a fuckin' room usually, growing up, and then an apartment for a few years. I'd probably kill anybody else I tried to live with."

Cas cocked his head at the oddly intense phrasing. "What's he do now?" he said cautiously.

"Stanford," Dean said, and something in Cas melted at the way Dean's face lit up with pride. "Law school. Kid's kind of a genius."

"Stanford. Wow."

"Yeah. You two would probably get along," he said, poking at Cas with a fork. "Nerds. So, theology! What's up with that?"

Cas swatted Dean's fork away and licked at the smudge of baked beans on his hand. He watched Dean watching the motion until their eyes met, and they both jumped. He cleared his throat.

"Anyways, yes. I'm studying the significance of angels in art throughout history. I suppose it's family influence, Gabriel and I were both named for angels, so --"

"Wait, what? I know of the angel Gabriel, a'course, but I've never heard of the angel Cas."

"Castiel," Cas said softly.

"Casti--?"

"Castiel," he repeated. "Angel of Thursday. It's my full name. I was born on a Thursday."

"Castiel," Dean said, trying it out in his mouth. "Shit, that's -- that's kind of beautiful."

Cas blinked at him. "Most people think it's weird."

"It is. I like it. I'll probably stick to Cas, though," he said with a grin. "So -- was your family super-religious?" He paused. "Is that rude?"

Cas waved his hand. "Not particularly, really. We were practicing Christians, went to church most Sundays, but my parents' interest was always more academic than anything. I came out to them as a gay agnostic when I was 17."

"That sounds terrifying."

"It was a bit, of course. They weren't delighted, but they accepted it. They're more interested in my academic career, anyway -- when I told them I planned to study theology I think they'd have forgiven me a stable of gay lovers," he said with a sigh. "We've had rocky patches, but it could have been much worse, considering."

Dean nodded, studying his glass. Cas waited, apprehensively.

"I never really got the chance to know what my parents would have thought of me," he finally said. "My mom died when I was a kid, and my dad was never… right, after that." 

"That's why you learned how to cook for Sam?" Dean nodded, and he expected Cas to either close off or drip sympathy, but when he glanced up Cas was looking at him with open admiration.

"What?" he said, defensively.

"You basically raised your brother when you were still a kid?"

"Yeah, and?"

"And he's at Stanford now?"

"What of it?"

Cas stared at Dean. "Jesus, Dean. That's incredible. You're incredible."

Dean blushed. "I'm a mechanic, Cas. With a GED. I don't even have a college degree."

"And you need to stop talking or I'm going to fall in love with you." Dean blinked and Cas dropped his eyes. "Um, sorry. People skills. Like I've said."

Dean gazed at him for a long moment, then shook himself. "So! Are you ready for the main course?"

Cas looked up in alarm. "Are we roleplaying Se7en? Can I not be gluttony, please? I could be sloth. I'm good at sloth."

Dean laughed. "Dude, I made apple pie from scratch. I will be very offended if you don't have some."

Cas sighed. Dean stabbed a forkful and rubbed it in the melting bowl of ice cream, then held it out. Cas opened his mouth obediently, licking his tongue up and down the tines, and let out a low moan.

Dean swallowed. "Jesus, Cas," he said. "We _are_ in public."

"Don't care," Cas mumbled, eyes closed. "Christ, this pie is pornographic."

"You're pornographic," Dean retorted. "Don't blame it on my pie."

Cas opened his eyes and seized Dean's fork, gathering another pile of pie and ice cream, and brought it to Dean's mouth. Dean locked eyes with him then smirked briefly, because fuck if he couldn't dish it out as well as he got.

He stuck his tongue out, so Cas had to deposit the bite directly, then wrapped his lips around the fork. He sucked hard at the crumbs, and when he opened his eyes Cas was staring at him.

"You're an asshole," Cas finally said, his cheeks flaming. Dean grinned at him, then scooped two fingers into the pie and held them up.

"Really, Dean?" he said, but he couldn't squash the smile quirking at his mouth. "Have it your way, then." He leaned in and licked up Dean's fingers without breaking his gaze, then drew his fingertips into his mouth down to the knuckle.

Dean made a small noise in the back of his throat. Cas sucked the last of the crumbs off Dean's fingers and broke off with a pop, smiling, and Dean let out an actual growl.

They stared at each other over the picnic table, and finally Cas reached up to twist a finger in Dean's collar, pulling him in.

"You're lucky we're in a public park," he said, brushing his lips over Dean's.

"Can we not be?" Dean said, gasping.

Cas kissed him brief and hard, then drew back.

"Dean," he said. "I, um. Actually. I like you."

"Oh good," Dean said, chasing after Cas' mouth, but Cas put out a hand.

"No, wait. Seriously. I know we met in, um. Questionable. Questionable circumstances. But… I don't really do, you know, casual, very well."

Dean pulled back at that and looked at Cas, considering. Night had fallen and the locusts were buzzing in the trees.

"I don't do not-casual very well," he said at last, and Cas visibly flinched. Dean caught at his hand, tracing a finger down his forearm. "And I don't know why you'd want to, you know, with me. But I also don't usually turn into a giant girl after a one-night stand, so I guess you're already breaking my rules."

"I don't mean, you know, we need to jump into anything headfirst the day after we picked each other up at a club," Cas hurried to add. "I just -- I'm told I can be kind of intense, so I wanted to be upfront."

"I'd, uh, give it a try. If you want to," Dean murmured. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to Cas' wrist. "Christ, you get under a guy's skin."

Cas sucked in his breath and tilted his forehead against Dean's shoulder.

"Come home with me, Cas?" Dean whispered. "We don't have to, you know -- not tonight, I'd just like --"

"Just because I find casual encounters to be generally more headache than they're worth," Cas said, kissing Dean's jaw, "doesn't mean I'm a prude."

"Kinda getting that," Dean said. "Did you bring a rosary, then?"

Cas blinked at him for a moment, then laughed.

"I'm sure we can pick one up," he whispered, and the nighttime silence was suffocating. "Let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas spend the night together for the first time. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut. All smut. Lots of smut.

Dean had barely set the empty picnic basket down on the floor before Cas grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the door.

"Oof," he said, but any further comments were lost in the warmth of Cas’ mouth. He tasted like apple pie and red wine, and that taste on Castiel’s tongue was hitting pleasure centers Dean didn’t know he even had.

Cas released his mouth to suck at his neck, and his head bounced back against the door.

"Fuck," he groaned, and Cas made a incoherent noise of assent into his throat. "Your mouth is even better than I remember."

Cas began dragging them backwards, only taking his lips off Dean to yank off their shirts, and distantly it occurred to Dean that the distance between the door and the bed was a drastically overlooked advantage of studio apartments.

Cas spun them around and shoved Dean onto the bed, landing on top of him and straddling his hips. He caught both of his wrists in one hand and brought them to his lips.

"Been thinking about you under me like this for the last two days," he murmured, and Dean bit back a moan.

"Me, too," he finally managed, twisting his wrists experimentally, and Castiel's eyes went dark and feral.

"Is that so?" he whispered, tightening his grip. "God, I wanted to know if you were hard for me."

"Could have checked," Dean said with a weak smirk.

Castiel smiled down at him, slow and predatory. "Were you?"

"What do you think?" He arched up, trying to get some friction, but Cas kept him pinned.

"I asked you," he said, still keeping his mouth on Dean's wrists. "Did I make you hard? Did you jerk off, thinking about me?"

"Yes," Dean finally snapped, face burning. "Yes, I was hard, and yes I jerked off. You were so fucking hot, just -- just throwing me down --"

Cas growled and leaned down, moving Dean's hands over his head but keeping them locked in an iron grip, and kissed Dean hard and dirty.

When he broke away the granite control was gone from his eyes, and he loosened his hold.

"Dean," he said, breathless and uncertain and actually blushing slightly -- and God, Dean wasn't sure which was a better look on him. "Um, like I said before -- I can be a little -- intense. If you --"

"Cas," Dean said, reaching his hands to grip Cas' neck, "not afraid to tell you to stop. So, fuck, don't stop."

Cas smiled, but only reached a hand to trace down Dean's chest. "I don’t actually do this often," he confessed softly. "You know, take strange men to bed before I know their last name. Despite all evidence to the contrary."

Dean grinned. "Winchester," he said, awkwardly sticking out his hand between them. "We good now?"

Cas stared at him, then broke into a quiet laugh. "Novak," he replied, reaching down to grip Dean's hand, and his gaze went back dark and smoky. He pushed Dean's wrist back to the pillow and leaned down until their bodies were pressed together and their lips brushing. "The pleasure," he whispered, punctuating his words with rolls of his hips, "is all -- mine."

Dean groaned, reaching up his free hand to rake down Castiel's back, because it was _not fucking fair_ how he seemed to push every single button he had. He tried to snake his hand down to shove Cas' jeans off without bothering with the zipper, and Cas laughed again, low and throaty.

"God, you're gorgeous," Cas said, kissing him again.

Dean made a sound between a choke and a laugh. "You seen yourself, dude?"

They rocked against each other for a few minutes longer before Cas finally caved, rolling off Dean long enough for them to kick off the last of their clothes. When they fit themselves back together Dean's vision went white, and Cas made a noise he'd never admit to being a whine.

"Cas," Dean growled, and Cas just caught his other wrist. "Cas, _please_."

"Tell me what you want, Dean."

"You _know_ what I want," Dean said, blushing again.

"Yes. And I want you to tell me."

There was a pause, and Castiel waited expectantly.

"Fuck me," Dean finally hissed, and Cas smiled, kissing him long and deep.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmured. He pulled off, rubbing his thumb along Dean's lips. "You're sure?"

"Jesus Christ," Dean gasped. He grabbed Cas' hand and licked his finger into his mouth, sucking hard against the knuckle. Cas' body tensed, and Dean smiled. He lapped messily around his fingers, then brought down them across his body, between his legs.

"Please?" he whispered, pushing Cas' hand between his legs, and Cas groaned.

"Do you have lube?" he asked, rubbing his fingers in soft circles.

"Don't need it," Dean grit out, trying to shove himself down. "C'mon, Cas, fucking do it," but Castiel stilled him with a hand on his hip.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, and Dean bucked against him. "Dean," he said. "No. Want this to -- to be good."

"Would be _good_ ," Dean snarled, "if you'd fucking _fuck_ me," but Cas just tightened his hold on his hip. He sighed. "In the -- in the nightstand."

"Are you done being difficult?" Cas asked.

"Doubtful," Dean said with a breathless grin, and it occurred to Cas that there was a serious danger he was falling in love with a man he hadn't known for two days.

He leaned over, deliberately grinding against Dean, and rummaged in the drawer. He came up with a small bottle, tossing it on the bed, then wiggled a condom packet uncertainly.

"Do we, um --?"

"'m clean," Dean said. "Tested last month."

"I as well, but if you'd prefer me to --"

Dean grabbed the condom and threw it across the room, then yanked Cas' mouth down to his.

Cas kissed him hard while he fumbled one-handed with the lube, finally getting his fingers well-coated, along with Dean's left knee, a good splotch of the bed, and somehow his own elbow. He reached down and slowly pushed his index finger into Dean, and Dean made high, incoherent sounds into his mouth.

"Good?" he said, stroking in and out slowly.

" _Yes_ ," Dean hissed. "More, Cas. Please, more."

"Since you asked so nicely…" Cas slipped in a second finger and pushed in harder, until Dean was fucking himself on his hand. He bent and twisted them, then added a third.

"Are you ready?" he asked when he had all three buried inside.

"Fuck, yes," Dean whispered. "Jesus Christ, Cas, want you, want you so fucking bad…"

"You have me." He shifted downwards and gave Dean's cock a long, slow suck before pulling off and pulling out. Dean cried out, throwing his arm over his face. Cas reached up and yanked it off, pinning it to the bed with one hand and aligning his cock with the other.

He pushed in slowly, watching Dean's face for discomfort, and paused when his eyes screwed up.

"Okay?" he said, drawing Dean's hand up to press a kiss to his palm.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Dean replied, opening his eyes with a crooked smile. "You can move. 'm good."

Cas slid inside until he bottomed out, drinking in the lines and curves of Dean's body as he arched up.

"Oh fuck," he growled, trying to fight back his orgasm, and Dean choked out something like a laugh.

"Seems so," he said, hooking his legs around Cas' waist. "Fuck, Cas, so good, so gorgeous -- not gonna, fuck, gonna --"

And fuck it, Cas thought dizzily. He was fairly sure this wasn't going to be a one-time (two-time? One-and-a-half-time?) thing; he could try to prove himself some fucking sex god some other night. He fucked upwards harder, and wrapped a hand around Dean's cock.

"Want to see you come for me," he said, and Dean fell apart. He threw back his head, coming all over Cas' hand, and the sight was enough to send Cas over the edge, shuddering.

Castiel collapsed onto Dean and pulled out slowly.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean said again, finally. "Not fair."

"Mm?" Cas mumbled into his chest.

"You. Hot. Smart, nice. Funny. Also hot. Did I mention hot?"

"Should I apologize?"

Dean tickled him lightly, only enough to make him squirm. "No, but. That, um. You. Probably best sex I've ever had. Not fair."

Cas lifted his head at that, kissing at his jaw. "Me, too. Only I'm not complaining."

Dean snorted. "You'll stay the night? You know, um, again?" Cas nodded, tightening his arms, and Dean took a deep breath. "You wanna -- you want to get lunch with me tomorrow? At… at the Roadhouse? Can meet, you know… everyone."

Cas shifted back. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Dean…"

Dean just poked him. "They'll make me uncomfortable anyway. Anyway, I'd… I'd like you to meet them. Don't listen to anything Jo says."

Cas grinned. "I'm sure she'll have much of interest," he said, his voice a mix of sleepy and feral. Dean groaned, burying his face in Cas' neck.

"This is the worst idea I've ever had."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback welcome, craved, etc etc etc.


	6. Chapter 6

"So this is Castiel!" Jo crowed, plunking down their beers. "Nice to actually meet you. You were a bit preoccupied with somebody's tongue last time I saw you."

Dean groaned and Castiel blushed.

"I apologize," he said. "That was… out of character."

"Uh, that's debatable there, buddy," Dean said with a grin, and Cas glared.

"Do you _know_ what I had to --" Jo began.

"Thank you, Joanna Beth," Dean interrupted. Jo scowled, then smirked, leaning over to whisper in Castiel's ear. His eyebrows rose slightly.

Dean sighed, taking a long drink. Jo grinned at him and disappeared into the kitchen.

"I like her," Cas said, and Dean couldn't help but smile. "Did you really --"

"Nope," Dean said. "Whatever she said, nope."

Jo reappeared with their burgers. "Mom's comin' over," she said, dropping extra napkins by Dean's plate. "Fair warning."

"Oh God," Dean said. He looked over at Castiel. "I apologize for everything that's about to happen," and Cas stared at him in alarm.

A side door banged open and Ellen Harvelle stalked in, yanking a stool to their table. She set her chin in her hand and glared at Cas.

"You treat my boy right or me and my girl will treat _you_ right, y'hear?" she said, and Dean groaned.

" _Ellen_ ," he said. "In the first place, I'm thirty years old. In the second place, he _wanted_ to come meet you, so be nice, okay?"

Ellen eyed him appraisingly, and he offered a tentative hand. "Castiel," he said. "As I assume you knew. I assure you, my, uh… intentions are honorable." Dean snorted.

"Hmm," she said, taking his hand. "Ellen. Maybe your manners will rub off on Dean. I think I like this one, Dean."

"Oh good," he replied, blushing. "I think I do too. Can we eat now, please?"

She stood up and ruffled Dean's hair. "You kids behave, now."

"Yes ma'am," Dean chirped, swatting her hand away. She rolled her eyes and joined Jo behind the bar. Cas exhaled sharply, and Dean smiled at him.

"Pretty sure you passed, dude. You'd know it if you didn't."

Cas gave him a small smile in return and picked up his burger, staring at it dubiously. Dean nudged him.

"I know it looks good, but believe me, it tastes better in your mouth."

"I don't know if I can _fit_ it in my mouth," Cas admitted.

"Well, I seem to have recently acquired a vested interest in that question, so let's find out," Dean said with a wink. Cas rolled his eyes, then shrugged and took a bite.

"Mmph," he groaned around the burger, a thin trail of juice dribbling down his chin.

"Oh, God," Dean said. "I forgot about your food noises. Please don't give me a boner here." He reached over and wiped at Cas' chin with a napkin.

"Aww-w," Jo and Ellen chorused from the bar, and Dean and Cas both jumped and flushed.

"You see why I didn’t want to bring you here last night?" Dean said with a melodramatic sigh, and Cas laughed.

"They clearly care about you deeply," Cas said. "Thank you for letting me meet them." He paused and shivered. "But yes. I'm glad they don't seem to hate me."

They worked through their food in companionable silence for several minutes, then Dean's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, wiping his mouth, and a grin spread across his face.

"Cas, is it cool if I take this real quick? It's Sammy."

Cas smiled at the way Dean's entire face lit up. "Of course, Dean."

Dean smiled back at him, then leaned over to drop a kiss on his cheek before scooting out of the booth. "Back in a minute."

His empty chair was immediately occupied by a girl with long red hair. He blinked.

"Well?" she said. "Dish! Quick, he'll be back in a minute!"

"Um," he said, floundering.

"Oh, I'm Charlie," she said, sticking out a hand and bouncing up and down. "Jo and Dean are my best friends. I saw you at the club, and I mean obviously you're _totally_ Dean's type, but I was still surprised when Jo told me he actually _texted_ you, but wow, now that I see you up close, I mean, I don't even _play_ for your team, but wow."

"Um," he said again, shaking her hand. "I'm Cas."

"I'm sure Jo and Ellen gave you the spiel so I'll skip it. So come on, spill, what did you _do_ to reel in the great Dean Winchester?"

He stared at her helplessly, and to his immense relief the door swung open and Dean strode back inside.

"Bitch," he was saying into the phone, to Cas' surprise, and then hung up a moment later. He groaned when he spotted them.

"Charlie! Have you been harassing my date?"

Charlie slid out of the booth guiltily. "Maybe a little?"

She started to wander off but Dean called her back.

"Charlie, wait!" She stopped, surprised, and Dean beckoned her back. "Sammy's coming into town!" he said with an infectious grin, looking between the two of them.

Cas smiled at his enthusiasm but Charlie let out a small shriek. "What? When! Oh my God, for how long?"

"Next weekend. He didn't actually say…" he trailed off, his grin fading slightly. "He sounded a bit off, to be honest. Probably just the phone, though."

"I'm gonna tell Jo and Ellen, 'kay?" she said, and Dean waved her away.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?" Cas asked.

Dean thought back, frowning. "Almost a year ago," he said sadly. "Used to be able to visit more, but, y'know, law school and all, and then he got an internship, so…"

Cas nodded understandingly. "Gabriel and I drifted apart when I was in college in New York and he was in culinary school. I know he's a bit much, but we were always close. It saddened me."

"What happened then?" Dean asked. "I mean, you live with the guy now, right? You seem pretty close."

"We are," Cas said with a smile. "I moved back to Kansas after college, and once we were back in each other's lives, it fell back into place. It's just hard when it's all phone calls and occasional visits. I expect it's the same with you and Sam."

Dean fiddled with his beer. "We were really close, growing up," he said finally. "I know I told you I kinda raised him, but it was more complicated than that." He paused, then gave Cas a lopsided smile. "You probably don't wanna open this can o' worms."

Cas reached over and linked his index finger with Dean's. "I want to hear anything you're comfortable telling me," he said softly.

Dean exhaled. "Like I said, after my mom died, my dad kinda lost it. We were pretty much always moving -- I think he was runnin' from her memory or something. Lived in motels, never really had a home except the Impala."

"That's why you love your car so much?"

"I love Baby because she's perfect in every way," Dean retorted, then paused. "But yeah, probably. Anyway, as we got older Dad was gone most of the time. He'd put us up in a motel and be gone for days, then weeks. Show back up and we'd be off again. I made sure Sammy got fed and got to school wherever we were, but we weren't ever really in one place long enough for either of us to make friends, so we only had each other."

"Jesus, Dean," Cas said, twining their hands together. "That's fucking intense."

"Mm," Dean said. "And then Dad started drinking. He wasn't a nice drunk, so we were better off when he wasn’t there anyway."

Cas looked up sharply, but Dean waved him off. "It wasn't that bad. And I took the worst of it so Sammy never did. It was fine." He didn’t notice the way Cas' scowl darkened at that.

"So how did you end up here?" he asked. When Dean didn't reply he added hurriedly, "It's OK, you don't have to tell me."

Dean shook his head. "No, it's OK. It's probably the only good thing my father ever did for us. Whenever he left, he made sure we had a piece of paper with Ellen and Bobby's name and phone numbers on it -- Bobby Singer, you'll meet him sometime. I mean, if you want to," he mumbled, blushing. "He never told us who they were, but he said if we ever got in real trouble, call them."

Cas smiled slightly. He could see the fiercely protective instinct of the Harvelles, and he was grateful Dean's father had at least left him that.

"Anyway, so… eventually, we got in real trouble," he said. "Dad went out on a job, didn't come home. Didn't call. Didn't take the Impala, even -- which thank God for that. I was 17, I could handle myself, but Sammy was only 14. We knew if we got tangled up in the system, they'd separate us. So… I swallowed my pride and called Ellen, and two days later, we were camped out in the guest room upstairs of this bar."

"Jesus, Dean," Cas repeated.

"Sorry," Dean said. "Known you three days and here I'm dumping my fucked up life story on you."

"No," Cas said firmly, squeezing his hand. "You're amazing. Jesus."

Dean made a face at him. "By that time it was pointless for me to finish school, so I just worked in Bobby's garage to help contribute to room and board. But Sammy got to have an almost normal high school experience, so I don't regret anything. But it's weird, Cas… it sucked, you know, growin' up like that? Fuckin' sucked ass, dude. But in some weird way it worked for me, felt right, just taking care of what had to be done. Sammy hated it, and I don't blame him for that, but still hurt a little bit when he ran off to Stanford first chance he got." He snorted. "Fuckin' genius gigantor."

"Gigantor?" Cas asked curiously.

"Oh, yeah. Kid's like 6'4, been taller than me since he was like 15. You're lucky you're the tall one."

"You're taller than me," Cas pointed out.

"Yeah, but you ain't my kid brother. Thank God."

Cas smiled at him, and they were silent for a few minutes, picking at the last of their food.

"Would you like to meet him, when he's here?" Dean asked hesitantly, stabbing at one of Cas' fries with his fork. "I know I just threw all my family drama at you all at once, so I understand if --"

"Of course I would," Cas interrupted. "I'd like to very much."

"You could even bring Gabriel along, if he'd be interested. Sammy doesn't have a lot of friends here anymore, and you and he'll probably bond over your nerd shit, maybe we could get together with Charlie and Jo and them --" Dean knew he was babbling, but Cas just leaned over and kissed him softly.

"I'd love to. And I'm sure Gabriel will jump at anything with the potential to humiliate me," he said with a long-suffering sigh. He looked up, pausing. "Thank you for inviting me into your life, Dean," he finally said.

Dean blushed, and studiously ignored the butterflies in his stomach.

"Yeah, well," he said, stealing Cas' last fry and ignoring his squawk of protest. "I kinda like you in it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends and family.

Dean dropped Sam's bags on the floor and shuffled to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers.

"Sorry 'bout the lack of a guest room," he called over his shoulder. "Or a bedroom, for that matter. Looks like we'll be tradin' couch duty like the old days."

"All good, dude," Sam called back. "Though hopefully I won't be woken up by random chicks nightly like the old days."

Dean paused. He hadn’t mentioned Cas to Sammy yet. Not for any particular reason; they just hadn't had much time to catch up outside of working out the logistics of Sam's visit. Truthfully, Dean was still trying to process the fact that he hadn't _wanted_ to bring home random chicks since he'd met Cas.

"I'll do my best," he said, handing Sam a beer and ruffling his hair. He flopped down on the couch next to him. "So, Sammy, it's been ages since you’ve graced me with your mammoth presence. To what do I owe the honor?"

"What, I can't just wanna see my big bro?" he said, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. Dean gave him a patented older-brother look.

He sighed. "Fine. We… Jess and I broke up." Dean winced. Sam and Jessica had been nearly inseparable since Sam had started at Stanford. Dean had met her a few times when he visited Sammy, and she'd even come out for a few days during Sam's last visit, and Dean had given his vigorous approval of the girl.

"Shit, little bro, that sucks. What happened? I mean, if you wanna talk about it."

Sam shrugged. "Not much to tell, honestly. You know how busy I've been, especially with the internship, and with nursing school she wasn’t much better off. We barely saw each other, and one day we woke up and kind of realized there wasn't really anything there anymore."

A few moments went by in silence. "You OK, Sammy?" Dean asked carefully. "You're not…"

"No, Dean," Sam said, giving him a perfunctory bitch-face. "And yeah, I'm OK. Or I will be. I think we both knew it was coming for awhile, really, but it's easy to stick your head in the sand when you don't really see each other. Still hurts, but I'm all right."

Dean nodded. "Shit happens, doesn't make it not suck," he said, ruffling his hair again.

Sam swatted him away. "Yeah. You know we were gonna do some traveling this summer, but… we figured it'd just be harder in the end. So I had some unexpected free time, and, well, I'm here." He cleared his throat. "How 'bout you, dude? Still keeping on top of your reputation as the great womanizer?"

"Well, um," he began awkwardly, and Sam sat up straighter.

"What?" he said. "No way! Did the great Dean Winchester finally get toppled by a single woman? Dude! Spill!"

"No, um," Dean mumbled. "Actually." Dean was relatively sure that Sam wouldn't care that Dean liked the occasional dude, nor that he _really_ liked one occasional dude in particular, but it was still not a conversation he was thrilled to jump into.

Sam's eyes just got rounder. "Wait, no fucking way, did you finally get over the fact that you like dudes?"

Dean's head snapped up. "Wait, what?"

"Jesus Christ, do you know _how_ many bets are about to be settled?" Sam said, starting to laugh.

Dean groaned. "Figures you'd be too perceptive for your own good. Anyway, yes, I in fact got over that quite a few years ago, I just never felt the need to throw a parade about it. And, yes, I met a dude, but only like a week ago, so don’t start plannin' any big gay weddings yet, Sammy. We've only hung out a few times."

"A few times is still a few times more than your usual. So tell me about him! He hot? What's he do?"

Dean had to laugh at Sam's enthusiasm. "Um, he's a student."

" _Dean_ \--"

"A _PhD_ student, Sammy, Jesus. You'll like him. And yes, of course he's fuckin' hot. I'm insulted."

"So? When do I get to meet him? Or is meeting the family still too _feelingsy_ for Dean Winchester?"

"Shut up, Sasquatch," Dean said, poking him in the ribs. "And, uh, tonight, actually. Figured I'd drag you down to the Roadhouse before Ellen and Jo take my head off for keepin' you away. I invited Cas, and I think Cas is bringing his older brother, Gabriel. I only met him briefly, dude's a bit out there, but Cas swears he's good people."

"Holy shit," Sam said, staring at him in genuine surprise. "You're actually bringing him to meet Ellen and Jo?"

"Uh, actually," Dean said, blushing slightly, "he's already met them. The morning after our first real date."

"Your first _real_ \-- also, ew, Dean. Jesus. OK, so as opposed to your first not-real date? How'd you actually meet him?"

"Took him home from a club, of course," Dean said with a grin. "Usual style."

Sam shook his head. "Well, at least some things never change."

"Shut it, bitch."

"Jerk."

\---

Cas and Gabriel were sitting at the bar, chatting with Jo and Charlie as they waited for Dean and Sam. Gabriel was behaving relatively well, to Cas' suspicious relief, and Jo and Charlie were clearly not the kind of girls to be fazed by his inappropriate commentary.

"Yep," Gabriel was saying, as Jo and Charlie doubled over in laughter. "So that's how I ended up sneaking back over the Canadian border in boxers and a life jacket."

"Oh, my God," Jo finally said, wiping her eyes. "No way. I call bullshit. Cas, is he making this up?"

Gabriel just raised his eyebrows, and Cas sighed, but he couldn’t help the amusement quirking at the corners of his mouth.

"For better or for worse," he said, "and almost certainly for worse, really, Gabriel's stories are, to the best of my extensive knowledge, both true and unembellished. Unless they're about me," he amended. "Then they are entirely, patently false."

"Jesus," Charlie said, hiccupping, "you guys need to come around more often."

They both smiled at her. "Told you I wouldn't lie t- --" Gabe stopped mid-sentence. "Dear God, who is that mountain of perfection?"

Their heads all swiveled in the direction of Gabriel's gaze, to the tall, shaggy-haired man standing awkwardly in the doorway. Jo and Charlie smirked at each other behind Gabriel's back but stayed silent, and Cas groaned.

" _Gabriel_ ," he hissed. "We are here to spend time with Dean and his brother. _Not_ for you to -- to creep on a random innocent man." Jo and Charlie laughed harder at that than Cas thought was entirely necessary, but he said nothing.

"But Cassie," Gabriel said with a whine. His expression was an odd mix of meek, pleading and predatory as he stared at the guy.

"Gabriel."

Gabriel dragged his eyes away just as Dean walked in the door and, to Cas' horror, joined the man who he realized must be Sam.

"Oh, Jesus," he muttered, dropping his face to his hand, and Jo and Charlie finally dissolved into hysterics.

"What?" Gabriel said defensively, looking between the three of them. "A guy's allowed to instantly develop a massive crush on a stranger."

"Indeed he is," Dean agreed, slipping in to plant a brief kiss on Cas' temple. "Seemed to work well for me."

Jo and Charlie had launched themselves at Sam immediately, Jo actually jumping over the counter to get to him, and Sam wrapped his long arms around them, grinning.

"Jesus, guys, don't suffocate my little bro, please," Dean said, laughing. "Anyway, Sam, this is Cas, and this is Cas' brother Gabe. Cas, Gabe -- my brother Sammy."

" _Sam_ ," he corrected, rolling his eyes with an exasperated smile. He turned to Cas. "Nice to meet you, Cas," he said, extending his hand. "From what Dean said earlier we've a lot in common. Or are just, as he put it, 'fuckin' little nerds'. Pretty rich from a guy who had Star Wars bedsheets 'til he was 22."

"Sammy!" Dean yelped, and Cas threw back his head and laughed, taking Sam's hand.

"You were right, Dean," he said. "I definitely like your brother." He turned to Gabriel, who had gathered some semblance of his usual self-possession.

"Damn, you Winchesters both got the good genes, huh?" Gabriel said, sticking out his hand.

"I, uh?" Sam said, flustered, shaking his hand. "Um, I'm Sam."

"Gabriel," he replied, with an easier smile. "Sorry, I'm told I'm a bit much."

Castiel snorted. "As the ocean is a bit wet, yes."

"Good stories, though," Charlie piped up, her arm still slung around Sam's shoulder, and Gabriel gave her a quick, grateful glance.

"Sam Winchester!" came a voice from behind him, and then Ellen was shoving Charlie and Jo away to envelop him in a hug. "'Bout time you showed your face around here again."

"Sorry, Ellen," he said into her hair. "Been hard to get away."

She gave him a hard squeeze, then stepped back. "Good to see you, boy," she said. "Why don't you lot grab your beers and go get a booth? Jo, you can take a break, I'll bring it out. Usual, all of you?"

There were various noises of assent -- Gabriel looked at Dean and Cas, and they nodded reassuringly.

"Um, well, I'd like --" Sam spoke up tentatively.

"Sammy," Dean said ominously, "if you order some fuckin' rabbit food -- Ow! Jesus, sorry, Ellen! -- at the Roadhouse your first time back so help me --"

Sam rolled his eyes and acquiesced. The group made their way to a booth, but Gabriel grabbed Dean's arm and yanked him back.

"Dude, what's up?" Dean said, surprised.

"Can I hit on your brother, Dean?" he said, and Dean choked slightly.

"Wait, what?"

"He's _so attractive_ ," Gabriel said plaintively. "I swear I won't if you tell me not to but at least tell me if he bats for my team."

"Time out, time out," Dean said, starting to laugh. "OK. In the first place, Sammy's a big boy, he can decide what he wants. In the _second_ place," and he glared down at Gabriel for a second, "he just got out of a pretty serious relationship so if you fuck with him I will knock your teeth out, and as that would probably not endear me to your brother, I'd rather that not happen." He paused. "And in the third place, frankly, I'm not sure, I've never asked. He's more the long-term type than I was, so sample size is pretty small. But, uh," he snorted slightly, "apparently he's been taking bets as to whether I liked dudes since he was a fuckin' teenager, so you're probably not gonna get a fist to the face." He paused again and made a face. "Am I encouraging my maybe-almost-boyfriend's big brother to hit on my little brother?"

Gabriel grinned up at him. "Cross my heart, I won't do anything untowards. Well, without his approval."

Dean groaned and shoved him at the booth. Gabriel slid in next to Sam, and Dean pressed himself into Cas' side, squishing Charlie and Jo between them all.

Cas grabbed his hand under the table and leaned in close. Jo and Charlie were debating hotly with Sam about their favorite _Firefly_ characters, and it was so familiar Dean felt himself slip into contentedness.

"Fuck you, Charlie," Jo was saying, "Zoe was a total fucking badass."

"Duh," Charlie replied, rolling her eyes. "But have you _seen_ Inara? I mean, she was a total badass too, but God, she was so hot doing it."

"Nope," Sam said, with the long-suffering sigh of a much-repeated argument. "Kaylee held the ship together. Like literally held the ship together. Can't argue with that."

"But," Gabriel broke in, to their surprise, "Simon held Kaylee together. Also literally. Hard to argue with that too." He winked at Sam, and Sam felt his mouth quirking into a smile.

Ellen appeared at their booth, setting down their burgers. Dean inhaled the smell, and listened to his friends debate with his brother, and ran his thumb across Cas' knuckles, and even exchanged a reluctant, conspiratorial smile with Gabriel, and he wondered with equal parts warmth and unease if his definition of home might be changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erk, Sabriel just seems to happen where I don't expect it. Thoughts, yes/no?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brotherly bonding. No, not like that.

Jo plunked yet another round of beers on the table.

"Mom says she's gonna cut you off if you assholes don't shut the fuck up," she said. "There _are_ other customers in here."

Ellen had called her back to work after they'd finished dinner, and Charlie had fucked off somewhere to geek out about a video game with some mullet-haired dude. The brothers had sat making awkward, stilted conversation for a few minutes, until Sam had asked Cas about his theology coursework, setting them off and running on some debate about ancient Greek, and then Dean and Gabriel found themselves drowning out the nerdery discussing the merits of both Star Wars and pie.

"Yes, Dean-o," Gabriel said, "I seriously manage a bakery."

"Oh, God," Dean said. "Sammy, 'm afraid you're gonna have to marry Gabe."

Sam turned bright red, and yeah, Dean thought, he was definitely not imagining the little glances he was giving Gabriel when he thought no one was looking.

He smirked. "What? My life will be a dismal failure if I don't end up with a bakery in the family. And it'd be kinda weird and incestuous if I married Gabe." He winked at Cas. "Considering I've already got a little Novak in me."

Gabriel snickered and Sam groaned, but Cas just leaned forward. "I don't believe you were referring to me as a 'little Novak' the other night, Dean."

Dean grinned and opened his mouth, but Sam cut him off. "Oh- _kay_ ," he said loudly. "And that's enough of that conversational direction." He turned to Gabriel. "So how'd you end up running a bakery, of all things? I mean, since we're apparently now betrothed, I figured I should know _something_ about you."

Gabriel threw Dean an appreciative glance before answering. "Well, I might have a _bit_ of a sweet tooth," he confessed. "So managing a bakery is probably the worst occupation I could have possibly fallen into, of course. But I seem to have a knack for it, both the baking and the business, so it works out. Come by sometime. First pie's on me." He winked at Dean.

"Oh, I couldn't, you don't have to --"

"He thanks you kindly for your generosity and looks forward to taking you up on it," Dean interrupted, and Cas and Gabriel laughed.

Sam and Gabriel eventually fell into animated conversation but Dean and Cas were quickly reaching the point of just smiling goofily and whispering in each other's ear.

"Ugh," Sam said, kicking Dean under the table. "It might be time to call it a night. It's getting late, and I think Cas and Dean might end up fucking on the table if we don't drag them apart." They made identical whining noises, and Sam snorted.

"Um," Gabriel said, with a tentative expression that looked out of place on his face. "Not to sound inappropriate, but if you want, you could crash at our place, Sam. Let them fuck it out in peace."

Sam blinked at him in surprise, and Cas and Dean gave him looks of equal part suspicion and amusement.

"Hey, I'm just trying to be considerate!" he said, holding up his hands. "They're obviously just going to sulk all night if we pry them apart, and we have beer, movies and a guest bedroom at our house."

Sam and Cas smiled at him gratefully, but Dean groaned.

"Dude, I am not kicking you out of my house your first night here so Cas and I can get it on."

"You're a better man than I am," Cas interjected, and Dean swatted at him.

"Seriously, Sammy, I promised you _this morning_ not to do that."

"Actually, you promised me not to wake me up with random chicks. Pretty sure Cas is neither random nor a chick, and this way you would definitely not be waking me up. Anyway, Gabe's right, you'd just be an insufferable little bitch all night. I'd definitely take hanging out with Gabe and sleeping in an actual bed over lying on your couch and listening to you whine."

"I don't _whine_ ," Dean objected. He sighed, looking between Sam and Gabriel. "You sure you guys are cool with it?" Gabriel looked like all his dreams had just come true at once, and Dean snorted. "Gabe, I swear if you molest my baby bro in his sleep --"

"I am a perfect gentleman, I swear," Gabe said. "Unlike my little harlot of a brother." Cas gave him a look halfway between a scowl and a smirk. "Anyway, maybe we can all meet up for brunch or something in the morning, and exchange one pristine and unmolested little brother for one debauched and depraved?"

Dean laughed. "Well, works for me. Cas?"

"I seem to be making a habit of ending up in your bed," Cas said. "I have no complaints."

"Better not," Dean muttered, poking him gently. "Sammy, you --"

"Seriously, Dean," Sam said, giving him a genuine smile. "Anyway, you dicks are so vomit-inducingly cute I'd just feel guilty all night anyway. Gabe, if you're sure it's no trouble..."

"I would like nothing better than to open house and home to you, you walking colossus," he declared, throwing a tiny wink at Dean.

"Oh good," Sam said with a laugh. "The nicknames have already begun."

Gabriel grinned at him. "It's a habit of mine. Just ask Cassie and Dean-o." They groaned, and Gabriel's grin just widened. "So now that we've worked out the logistics to everyone's satisfaction, shall we vacate this princely place? Preferably before our less-gentlemanly brothers follow through on aforementioned tablefucking?"

Sam shook his head. It was occasionally hard to follow Gabriel's train of thought, but there was something undeniably appealing about the guy.

They stood up and fished through a confused pile of bills, going through the ritual exchange of Jo yelling that their money wasn't good here and Dean giving her the finger, until they got the bill sorted and the money wedged under a glass. They made the rounds of the bar, saying goodbye to Charlie and the Harvelles, and to Cas' surprise he and Gabriel were given warm hugs as well.

Finally they got out the door, and Dean threw an arm around Sam's massive shoulders.

"See ya in the mornin', bitch," he said into Sam's pile of hair.

"Yeah, yeah. Have a good night, jerk," he replied, shoving Dean away affectionately.

"Oh, I will," Dean said with a glance back at Cas. Sam sighed, and jumped into Gabriel's passenger seat as he saw Dean push Cas up against the side of the car.

\---

It had been late when they finally left the Roadhouse, and Sam was drained to begin with from the flight over, but somehow several hours later he and Gabriel were still flopped on the couch with an ever-growing pile of empty bottles on the coffee table.

They had put on _Serenity_ just out of principle, but they'd both seen it so many times it was basically just background noise under their conversation, which they shut up only to watch favorite scenes.

"Yeah," Sam was saying, "Dean's always loved Lawrence. And I do too, I love coming back here, but -- wait oh my God shut up _shut up shut up_ ," he interrupted himself. "Oh my God, I love it when Wash goes all freakshow badass, it's so fucking -- mrrph."

Gabriel shoved a hand over Sam's mouth and kept in firmly in place as they watched the pilot navigate the minefield of Reavers and Alliance.

 _"I am a leaf on the wind,"_ Gabriel whispered along with the movie. _"Watch how I soar."_

Then he yelped as something warm and wet pressed against his hand.

"Did you just _lick_ me?" he said in disbelief.

Sam grinned unashamedly. "Your hand tastes like French fries, dude," he said, licking his lips, and Jesus Christ, Gabriel was much too drunk to deal with this, it was so far past time to shut the movie off and go the fuck to sleep, and --

Instead to his horror he found himself saying, "Tastes better from the source, Sammy-boy," and sticking out his tongue.

Sam stared at him for a long moment, then threw an arm over his eyes, dissolving into laughter.

"I don't know if I should find that arousing or revolting," he finally managed, hiccupping.

"Revoltingly arousing?" Gabriel suggested, aiming for playful.

"Better than arousingly revolting, at least," Sam agreed. They sat in silence, and Sam drained his beer and rubbed his eyes. "I should probably go to sleep," Sam said finally. "Can't fuckin' believe I was in California when I woke up this morning."

"Yeah," Gabriel said, relief tinged with disappointment. "That shit is tiring. C'mon, I'll show you to the guest room. Uh, I wish I could offer you something to sleep in, but I'm pretty sure even Cas' stuff would be like doll clothes on you, let alone my own. But I think there's an unused toothbrush somewhere, at least."

Sam waved him off. "I sleep in boxers and a t-shirt anyway, 'm fine. But yeah, a toothbrush sounds fuckin' delightful about now."

Gabriel dug up the toothbrush and tossed it at Sam, pointing at the guest room door, and ducked into his own room to change.

When he headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth, he almost ran headfirst into Sam's chest as he emerged from the bathroom drying his face with a washcloth.

"Oof," he said, falling back, and trying very, very hard not to blatantly check out what Sam looked like in boxers.

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly. "Comes with the territory, being, you know. Colossus." He swallowed.

Gabriel just smiled at him, but he couldn't help tracking the motion of Sam's Adam's apple. _Do not take advantage of drunk Sam Winchester_ , his brain hissed, and he sighed inwardly.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "D'you need anything? Water or something?"

Sam shook his head. "I got a glass from the kitchen, I hope that's cool."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Of course. Well… g'night." He ducked around Sam and headed into the bathroom.

"Hey, Gabe?" Sam called, and Gabriel turned back around. "Hey, um… thanks, man. Seriously. For letting me stay here, but also, I… I had a lot of fun." He gave Gabriel a small smile and disappeared into the guest room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Gabriel let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, resisting the urge to bang his head against it. He brushed his teeth, then forced himself to walk back down the hall past the inviting guest room to his own room and shut the door.

Normally, he thought, flopping into his bed, he would have had zero qualms about indulging in the combination of mutual drunkenness and mutual -- he hoped -- attraction and at least stealing a kiss. But aside from the complication that his brother was dating Sam's brother, he acknowledged with a sigh that he _liked_ Sam, liked hanging out with him. That he'd rather never have sex with him if they could still hang out and drink and watch TV at 3am than fuck him once and never see him again.

Though he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabriel just fucking _happens_ , you guys. Jesus. Hope you enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares.

Gabriel woke up with a start. It was shortly before dawn, and a slight haze of drunkenness still ached in his brain. There was an unfamiliar sound, and he sat up, confused.

His head cleared a little, and he connected the sound with the fact that Sam Winchester was sleeping in his guest room, and he hesitated. But it seemed like a noise of distress, so he got up and padded down the hall.

"Sam?" he called, knocking on the door, then pushing it open slightly. Sam was still dead asleep, hands fisted in the sheets and a faint sheen of sweat on his skin. Gabriel bit his lip, then crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed.

He reached out, tentatively picking up Sam's hand. "Hey. Hey, Sammy-boy? You with me?"

Sam opened his eyes, wide and unseeing. "No," he said. "No, we don't have to -- let's not --"

Gabriel ran his other hand through Sam's hair, then nudged it behind his head, and Sam's eyes started to clear. "Hey," he repeated awkwardly.

"Gabe?" Sam said, panicked. "Shit, I'm sorry, dude. I'll go, I'm sorry, I just --"

Gabriel rolled his eyes, and Sam found the gesture already oddly, reassuringly familiar. He pulled Sam up against his side.

"You wanna talk about it, mountain-man?" he said.

Sam gave a weak laugh, and scrubbed his arm over his eyes. He shifted up on the bed, leaning his forehead against his shoulder, and Gabriel wrapped an arm around his waist.

"He doesn't know," Sam mumbled at last. "Dean doesn't know. He can't know, he gave up everything for me, he doesn't think I know but I do, and I just --"

"Hey," Gabriel said again. "You can tell me, if you want. I swear to you I won't tell Dean, or anybody."

Sam drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "I had a girlfriend. Jess. I loved her. I think I'd've married her. If things were different." He paused, breathing deeply. "But we were drifting apart, we never saw each other. And then I met --" He glanced up, and Gabriel was looking at him without judgment. "I never cheated on Jess. Not once, I never did. But I was lonely, and restless, and…"

Gabriel just stroked his hair, and Sam shuddered again.

"Ruby liked drugs," he said at last. "It wasn't a big deal, at first. Mostly we'd just hang out and study. Do a little speed, writing papers. Knew it was a bad idea, but… it was okay, you know? For awhile?"

He shifted, curling into Gabriel's side.

"Got worse," he said. "Didn't have many other friends. Just Jess and Ruby. Jess and I saw each other less and less and Ruby and I hung out more. She -- she wasn't a bad person, she wasn't. Wasn't a bad friend. But we got into… stuff. Bad stuff."

"I finished out the semester. Didn't do great, but I was okay. She --"

Sam stopped talking and swallowed.

"She didn't. She wasn't. And I found her -- I found her."

Gabriel said nothing, just playing idly with Sam's hair.

When Sam finally spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper.

"It… it wasn't the first time," he said, staring at his hands. "Back in high school. I -- Dean pretty much raised me by himself to begin with, but… I don't think he even knows how many times he's saved my life. He gave up everything so I could have a normal life, so I could go off to college, and this is how I pay him back." He laughed bitterly.

"Hey," Gabriel said, nudging Sam's shoulder. "That's not how it works. It's not like love's a scale that needs to be kept in balance. Shit, Sam-o, Dean was practically _vibrating_ with happiness just having you around."

Sam smiled slightly, then his face crumpled. "But Gabe, I was _done_. I was over it. And everything was perfect. I was at my dream school, had my dream girlfriend. Yeah, I was lonely, I missed Dean and Jo and everyone, but that's normal. Everyone's lonely. Everyone misses people. And first chance I get I fuck it right up and go running back."

"And, fuck," he continued, his voice cracking, "of all people, I should have fucking _known better_. And I'm not some dumb teenager making shit decisions anymore. If I'd just been stronger, smarter, everything would be fine now, I -- I wouldn't have shit grades, and I wouldn't've pushed Jess away, and Ruby would -- Ruby would still be alive…"

Gabriel felt his heart break a little at the self-loathing in Sam's voice.

"Sam," he said softly, still toying with Sam's hair. "I didn't know Ruby. Hell, I barely know you. But I know you can't blame yourself for other people's choices. You can't blame yourself that you made it here and she didn't. It'll eat you alive, little giant."

"It should," Sam said, his voice muffled in Gabriel's shoulder. "I deserve it."

They sat in silence for another few minutes, then Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said with a half-smile. "Wasn't quite what you signed up for when you invited me over."

"I know what it's like to have demons," Gabriel replied, squeezing his shoulder. He paused. "D'you know how long you plan to stay in town?"

Sam shook his head. "I dropped my summer classes," he murmured. "And I have some time off from my internship -- they knew Ruby, knew what happened -- well, they knew she -- she died. But if I stay too long, Dean -- he'll know something's up. And I can't let him know how bad I fucked up, after all he's done."

Gabriel shook him gently. "Hey," he said. "You're still in school, right? You didn't, you know --"

"Didn't flunk out," Sam finished. "No. But my grades weren't exactly great last semester."

"So you finished a semester of law school while fighting drug addiction -- or using drugs, at least -- _and_ dealing with the death of a friend, while blaming yourself for her death? A less-than-perfect GPA doesn't sound like being a huge fuckup to me, Sammy."

Sam sighed again. "Plus Dean lives in a studio apartment. I mean, we're close, and we basically grew up sharing a room, but we're grown men. We'd murder each other."

"Well, for however long you're here, you're welcome to appropriate this guest room if you need an escape."

"Gabe, I couldn’t --"

"No, seriously," Gabriel interrupted. "Let's face it, it's looking like Dean and Cas are going to be spending a lot of time together. And I love Cas dearly, and I like Dean, but you and I are probably both gonna need a safe haven from their love-fests, so as long as I can escape to your couch if needed, then mi casa es su casa. And I like the company. I like _your_ company, even." He paused. "Is that creepy? I realize I just met you last night."

Sam laughed. "Well, I've already confessed my sins to you and cried on your shoulder, so I think we're good. And you're right, anyway. I don't even want to think about spending the night in the same apartment as them. But I also don't want Dean to feel like he can't fucking bring his boyfriend home. If that's what they are, anyway, Dean's about as in touch with his feelings as a snail."

Gabriel snorted, and Sam smiled slightly. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Sam spoke again.

"I've never seen him like this, honestly," he said, and Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. "Like… into someone. Really into someone. I mean, he's dated here and there, but I've never seen him look at anyone like he looks at Cas."

Gabriel nodded. "Cassie doesn't date much, either. And no offense to Dean, but I wouldn't've called that one. But they seem to work in a weird way."

Sam nodded. He was still half-slumped into Gabriel's side, and Gabe's arm was still tight around his shoulders. He felt like he should sit up, move away, politely go back to sleep, but his presence was soothing, and he was too drained to give too many fucks.

After a few minutes, he felt Gabriel's head begin to droop against his, and without thinking he snaked his arm around his waist.

"Gabe?" he whispered.

"Mmmgh?"

"Thanks. Really."

He felt Gabriel smile a little into his hair before he drifted back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a new tumblr so I can actually reply and follow. Find me at my still super-bare tumblr, [relucant](http://relucant.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I'm nice.


End file.
